


Fading Away

by wildfox



Series: Tumblr Based Prompts [3]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Based on a Tumblr Post, Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 23:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12736590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildfox/pseuds/wildfox
Summary: Alec buys an old sweater at Goodwill, and gains much more than he bargained for.





	Fading Away

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this tumblr post: http://daddvrios.tumblr.com/post/167453694461
> 
> If you have any prompts you'd like to see turned into a short story, feel free to leave a comment or contact me on the link above!  
> (also, fair warning: this was posted through mobile, so the formatting might be a little but off.)

It takes Alec a full week to notice something is wrong. Magnus had always said his building was haunted, but the man never took him seriously— with Magnus, you could never know when he meant it or not.

  
It started as little things: a door closing by itself, cabinets all messed up inside — with his ocd, Alec knew something had happened, even if it didn't look particularly messy. Sometimes he would find clothes on the rocking chair near his bed, colorful pieces he hadn't worn in years. At first, always the skeptic, Alec assumed it was maybe a big rat, or his sister trying to subtly tell him he needed a fashion makeover. That is, until the day he noticed a peanut butter jar smashed on the kitchen floor. It had been inside the fridge, and there was no way a rat could get to it.

"I think my house is haunted." He told his close friends one afternoon, in passing.

"Only one way to find out." Simon had smiled wickedly, and Alec regretted his words immediately.

Forty-two minutes later, Alec found himself sitting cross-legged on the fluffy carpet Magnus had given him for Christmas, surrounded by candles that were absolutely a fire hazard with his sister, her girlfriend, Simon and Magnus.

"This is bullshit." Clary said, but she had a twinkle in her eyes as she stared at the Ouija board, clearly excited to use it.

"It is not! There's no better way to get concrete answers from an entity than through a spirit board." Simon sounded personally offended.

"Can we not call it an 'entity'? Makes it sound like a demon." Isabelle pouted.

"It ruined my peanut butter. It has to be a demon." Alec complained, shoulders hunched as he stared at the board between them, not sure he wanted to touch it.

"Maybe it's a demon child, and it was trying to make itself a pb and j." Magnus says, and although he is the only one between all of them with any kind of experience with the paranormal, he's clearly not taking the situation seriously.

"Magnus!" Simon all but yelled. "You're supposed to be a real-life psychic! You can't be making jokes like that!"

The man sighed. "It's not a demon. I would feel if it was." He gives a shrug that is too nonchalant for Alec's taste. "It's peaceful, and confused. Hasn't been around for too long."

It's supposed to be comforting, but the affirmation that there was, indeed, an entity in his apartment did not make Alec feel any better.

"Can we just start this thing?"

"Don't forget: don't take your hands off of the planchette, and let me do the talking." Magnus rolled his shoulders back, straightening himself up and looking more like a professional than Alec had ever seen him.

"Is there anyone here?" He asks, loud and proud. "If there is anyone in this apartment, please contact us. If you can, touch the planchette and talk to us." He takes a break, slender fingers hovering over the object. "Is there anyone here?"

It takes a moment, and Alec holds his breath as he waits, hands shaking lightly as he stares the board down. Very slowly, almost hesitant, the planchette drags to 'yes'. Alec curses under his breath, and he can see Simon's fingers twitch, as if he's ready to pull back. His hazel eyes wander around his friends accusingly, trying to figure out which one of them had moved it.

"Good. The man to my left is Alec, and he's the owner of the apartment. Are you trapped here?"

It passes almost a minute, and it takes Magnus repeating the question one more time before the planchette backs away from 'yes' only to move back to it again. The air seems tight in the room, Clary almost as red as her hair and Alec absentmindedly wonders if she's even breathing.

"Can you tell us what it is that is keeping you here?"

"The sweater." The voice is loud as day, and Alec's head snaps up. It was a male voice, a little bit raspy, and it definitely didn't come from any of his friends. Sitting across of Magnus, edged between Clary and Simon, is a stranger. A beautiful man, with blonde hair and mismatched blue and brown eyes and he's wearing the burgundy knitted sweater Alec bought a week ago at Goodwill.

"Holy fuck, Alec's ghost is a snack." Magnus says, and Alec's head snaps back at him so hard it gives him whiplash. Surely enough, Magnus is staring straight ahead, at the blond man across from him.

"You can see him too?"

Magnus' head turns to Alec, in a jerky graceless move so unlike him. "What do you mean 'too'? You're not supposed to see him at all."

"Yeah, i can see him. Blond and..." Alec cleans his throat. "Blond."

Magnus and the man both snort at the same time.

"What the fuck is going on?" Simon asks, eyes comically wide as he looks around the room, not seeing the apparition at all.

"If I'm a snack, Alec is a full course meal." The blond man's smirk sends shivers down his spine.

"Alec's ghost is flirting with him." Magnus replied, sounding much more amused than Alec thought he was allowed.

"What the fuck?" Comes from Simon.

"If you have seen him naked before, then you can't blame me at all, can you?" One of the ghost's golden eyebrow raised. Alec feels almost too appalled for words, staring at him with a slack jaw.

"When did you see me naked?" Before his ghost can open his mouth to reply, however, Clary gasps and pulls her hands from the planchette. The blond's image wavers, looking almost like heat waves against a hot pavement. He mouths something, but no words come out.

"Hands on the planchette, Fray!" Magnus barked, frowning lightly.

"Then tell the horny bastard to move the planchette so we know what's going on too!" Clary barks back, in the same tone as Magnus. Still, she obeys, and the ghost's image instantly comes back to full shape.

"What's your name?" Alec asked, earning a glare from Magnus. He knew he wasn't supposed to ask questions, but he decided he had a right to know it, considering the handsome stranger had seen him naked already. Clary screams a indignant "planchette!" and the blond closes his mouth, giving her a fondly sour look before reaching for the planchette. It slowly spells out JACE, but Alec pays little attention to it, too much in awe with the actual ghost in his living room, frowning in concentration as he did what seemed very straining physical effort to move the wooden object across the board.

Simon let's out a gasp, and Clary looks slowly to him. Or maybe she's looking to Jace between them, he can't be sure.

"Jace?" She asked, bottom lip wobbling. There's no answer, because Jace is smiling sheepishly, staring at the redhead next to him.

"Wait, is it actually him?" Simon asked, making Alec frown.

"What?"

"My brother." Clary says in a whisper, looking two seconds away from crying. Simon pulls his hands away from the planchette and, once again, Jace's image starts to waver. Magnus complains about it, but Simon is too busy scrolling through his phone to wave him off. He shows the screen to Magnus, forcing Alec to crane his neck to peek at it. Sure enough, there's a picture of Simon and Jace, the blond man next to them smiling brightly at the camera. There's snow behind them, and a red tint to Jace's cheeks and nose; he looks much more alive in the picture than he does sitting between Clary and Simon, and Alec's stomach churns.

"Yeah, it's him." Magnus' reply is so low it's almost a whisper.

"Holy fuck." It was the first time Izzy spoke, and the green color in her cheeks show exactly why she's been so silent.

Jace's lips are moving again, but there's no sound. He's not only wavering, but there is a translucent quality to his image that makes Alec's head hurt, almost like it can't process what his eyes are looking at.

"Simon, hands on the goddamn planchette!" Magnus berated, but by the time Simon drops his phone to comply, it's too late, and Jace's image is already gone.

"He's gone." Alec mumbles, and his voice is so off, Isabelle can't help but be concerned. The tall brunet is still staring at the space between Clary and Simon, a frown on his dark eyebrows.

"Let's close the board." Magnus say, already pushing the planchette to 'goodbye'.

"That was my brother." Clary says, her tone laced with an anger the redhead clearly didn't bother to hide. "Don't you think I wanted to talk to him?"

"He was gone, Clarissa. Keeping the board open would only invite other entities into Alec's home." Magnus' tone is sharp and final, and Alec is momentarily surprised by the amount of power it holds.

"I had no idea you had a brother." Isabelle tells her, a softness in her eyes that was exclusively reserved to Clary. "I'm sorry."

"He died a few years ago." Clary looked down to the board, fingers still on it. "Mom didn't take it very well. It was why we moved out of New York."

"He was... Amazing." Simon smiled, a loopy little grin that told a lot more about his feelings than he probably wanted to.

"If it makes you feel any better, he's clearly doing well." Magnus replied, standing up and turning on the lights in the room. Alec shuffled around, blowing out the candles— partly because he was worried his building might burn down, but also because he didn't want to have to look at Clary and Simon anymore. Her brother was haunting his apartment. Her dead, gorgeous brother had seen him naked. Alec didn't think he'd sleep for a week. Suddenly, something clicked on his brain.

"Magnus." He called from his position on the floor, sandlewood candle forgotten between his fingers. "When you said he was gone, does it mean—"

"Oh no honey, he's still here. It takes a lot of energy for a spirit to contact the living, specially in such a physical form. He probably tired himself, and with—" He gives Simon an angered look. "—Simon too busy to provide him the energy he needed, the connection was cut."

Clary perked up at that. "You mean we can contact him again?"

Magnus freezes, a forlorn look on his eyes. He takes too long to reply, and even if Magnus is a very hard man to read, Alec can tell he's torn. "I don't think so, sorry." Another long pause. "You need to understand that today was a rarity. It's not just because he's here that he'll be able to come through. There's a reason why we don't have a lot of evidence regarding spirits, biscuit."

 

"You lied." It's the first thing Alec says once he's alone with Magnus, a good four hours after they put the Ouija board away. Magnus is sprawled on his couch, silk shirt opened almost to his navel, sharp eyes closed. He looks like he's fallen asleep, but Alec knows otherwise.

"I'm always lying, darling. You'll have to be more specific." He doesn't open his eyes, but his voice almost sounds amused.

"Earlier today, when you told Clary we couldn't talk to Jace anymore." Alec leans forward, almost as if he's scared Clary will burst through the door at any moment. "You hesitated a lot. You only do that when you feel guilty about lying about something."

"You are a pain in the ass, Alexander. Do you know that?" The man smiled at him, finally cracking his eyes open. "I had to lie. Clary needs to move on from him, and she couldn't do that if there was still hope of talking to him."

"But— Does that mean that I can't talk to him either?" The question comes out shy, hesitant. Alec isn't even sure why he wants to talk to Jace again, but it feels right. Maybe he could try to get him to sign a roommate agreement to look away when Alec was naked, or something.

"You always had a thing for blondes." Magnus' tone is almost disappointed, though Alec couldn't tell why. "Yes, Alexander, you can talk to him again. Don't make it a habit, though. It'll damage you and your mental health."

Alec immediately thinks about the bottle of antidepressants in the kitchen, and almost snorts.

* * *

 

It takes Alec a full week to gather courage to try and talk with Jace again. The entire week, he had been paranoid— he couldn't see Jace, but he knew he was there. He was there when Alec was eating, working, sleeping. Alec could only pray that Jace wasn't there when he was showering, but considering the blond's comments on his nude body, Alec knew he was probably there too.

Silently, Alec started leaving the peanut butter jar out of the fridge; it got too soft and warm for his taste, but sometimes he could see the imprint of a finger inside de jar, so he knew Jace appreciated it.

In fact, it was the peanut butter that made him want to talk to Jace; the ghost was eating his food, for fuck's sake, and Alec was too curious to how the whole dead thing worked.

He didn't pick the Ouija board, this time— the board had belonged to Magnus, for starters, and Alec wasn't even sure it would work. He knew the spirits needed human energy to be able to come through, and with how Jace had disappeared even though there had been four people feeding him their energy, Alec was fairly certain that his energy alone wouldn't do anything. After a quick research, he decided to get a spirit box, telling himself it was strictly because the Ouija board wouldn't work, and not because he wanted to hear Jace's voice again.

The small box was incredibly loud when on, and Alec almost gave up, the static coming out of it annoying him even before he properly started the session.

"Jace, are you here?" It feels a little bit silly talking to himself, and Alec closes his eyes, zoning out the static of the spirit box and focusing on Jace instead: the picture Simon had showed, with Jace smiling so brightly and blushing, his golden hair a little bit tousled; Alec liked to think that they had been in a snowball fight shortly before the snap, with Jace's laugh echoing through the backyard— he hadn't been wearing the sweater in the picture, but Alec could see him in it clear as day, the dark red of the wool contrasting against his pale skin, matching perfectly with the shiny hair and beautiful mismatched eyes.

"Alec?" The voice doesn't come through the spirit box, sounding clear as day. The brunet opens his eyes, only mildly surprised to see Jace sitting in front of him. He's wearing the burgundy sweater again, and although he looks a little bit translucent, his voice is as strong as if he was still alive. Alec hadn't noticed the purple bruise going around Jace's neck the first time they saw each other, and now it's all he can look at— it looks like rope burns, purple and nasty and Alec can't help but wonder if that was what had killed Jace.

"Hi." Alec smiled.

"I heard you call me." Jace said, his sickly pale cheekbones gaining just a little bit of color. "I wasn't sure how to reach you? I'm still not sure how this whole 'dead' thing works."

"Have you been dead for long?"

"That depends— What year is it?" Jace asked, eyes falling to the spirit box between them, still on. He reaches for it, and before his fingers can grasp it, the box shuts off. The silence is almost deafening.

"2017." Alec answered, eyes fixed on Jace's hand, still hovering above the spirit box.

"Five years, then." Jace's tone is sad, and Alec regrets asking.

"Your sister was here, the other day. We're... Friends, I guess. She's closer to my sister than me."

"Yeah, I saw her." Jace pulled his hand back, fiddling with his fingers. He's a little less see-through than he was before, and Alec can only hope that's a good thing. "I didn't recognize her at first. She looks the exact same as she did the day I died, maybe with a little bit longer hair but... I just didn't know who she was." He looks like he has trouble swallowing, and the fact that a ghost even needs to swallow baffles Alec. "It happens a lot. Some days, I don't know who I am, or what happened. It's more frequent now than it was before."

"Maybe it means you're crossing to... Heaven? It would explain why there aren't a lot of ghosts, even if thousands of people die every day. You... Stay around for a little, and then go to Heaven."

"Or maybe I'm just fading away."

Alec doesn't know what to say to that. They stay in silence for a long moment after that, Jace staring at his hands, Alec staring at him.

"How do you eat my peanut butter?" He blurted the question, and the noise is so sudden Jace is startled. His image wavers and, for a terrifying second, Alec thinks he's going to disappear again.

"I don't know? It takes a lot of effort, a lot of concentration to move objects." Jace smiled, looking almost shy. Like a little kid, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "It tastes so much better than it ever did when I was— alive. That's another thing I don't understand. Sometimes, my senses are so heightened I can smell your mint toothpaste without even being in the same room. Other times, everything is so... dampened, it feels like I'm under water." He gives a little shrug. "When things are... Heightened, it makes it easier to touch things. To maybe see my reflection in a mirror, maybe make you hear me."

"You try talking to me?"

"Sometimes, yeah. I don't even notice, really. It's like, we're watching tv and I'll make a comment on it and then I'll realize you can't hear."

Alec doesn't know how to handle it. Jace had been watching television with him; Alec knew Jace had been around, he had been panicking about it all week. Hearing him say it, however, was a whole new level of weird. "Is it easier to touch things than it is to talk? I mean, the day we did the board, your voice went away but we could still see you, so I assumed making noise is harder than... Being here."

Jace hesitated for a moment, thinking about what Alec had said. "Yeah, I think so? I can move small things around fairly easily—"

"Like putting clothes on my rocking chair?"

Jace actually blushed at that, head ducking away from view. "You wear a lot of black, but you have some nice pieces in your closet. I thought you might wear them, if you saw them out."

Alec doesn't particularly like the colorful items Jace has been picking out, but after that he makes a point out of wearing them. "Maybe we could find a way where we can talk without using words?" Alec looked around. "Pen and paper, maybe? Would that be easy for you to move around?"

Jace looked up, a cocky smile on his plump lips. He looks more alive than Alec has ever seen.

* * *

 

"You're not taking your pills." Isabelle's tone is accusing, a frown on her dark eyebrows.

Alec blinked, looking up from the sketchpad he had in his hands, looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights. Beside his kitchen counter, his sister stands in high heels, his full bottle of antidepressants between well manicured fingers.

"I am." He stopped. "Taking them, I mean."

"Alec, don't lie to me. Why aren't you taking them?" Even from afar, Alec can tell her eyes are raking over his nude forearms; it makes him sick to his stomach.

"I forgot a few times." Another long pause. "They make my head hazy."

"Then talk to your doctor about it, and she'll give you a different medicine." Isabelle crossed the small space between them, sitting next to him at the table with a concerned look. She also looks sad, and it's a punch to the gut. "But don't just stop taking them. The last time you did—"

"I'm not going to try to kill myself, Izzy." Not again, at least. Alec blushed at his own words, embarrassed. His doctor had told him over and over again that his mental health was no reason to be ashamed, but Alec couldn't help it, specially with how guilty he felt about it.

"Please, Alec." Isabelle begged, dark brown eyes boring into his soul. "Please, take them."

"I will." He lied.

After that day, it seemed like everywhere Alec looked, his pills were in sight. At first he thought he was being paranoid, that his guilt over lying to his sister was making him hyper aware of his medicine, but then colorful post-its started to show up glued to the bottle, and he knew it was Jace's doing.

"You're an idiot." Alec said loudly, crumbling the pink post-it that was glued to his forehead; the brunet had been napping on the couch, and it made him mildly amused to wake up to it. 'PILLS!!!!' was written on the small paper with black ink, the letters a little bit shaky, like it had taken Jace quite the effort to write them. It meant it was a bad day, one of those days where his senses were dampened; the fact that the man still took the time to remind Alec of his medicine brought a warmth to his chest, and he couldn't even stop himself before taking the pill bottle, taking one and downing it with water. "There you go, asshole." Alec is smiling, and he liked to think Jace was smiling too.

* * *

 

'NICE' read the yellow post-it Alec's co-worker found glued on the back of his shirt. When asked about it, all Alec did was shrug, like he didn't know what it was; he knew, though, that it was Jace's seal of approval to the dark green jeans Alec had put on that morning. On the rocking chair Jace had paired it with a pale orange button down, but Alec refused to wear it, picking a black shirt from the laundry room instead; he liked dressing nicely for Jace, but there still were some colors he refused to wear. As a six foot three man with very broad shoulders, he attracted attention everywhere even with modest clothing. The last thing he wanted was to attract even more attention than he already did, and bright clothing would surely have the opposite effect.

The small praise kept a smile on his face the entire day. The next morning, Alec put on the orange shirt he had refused the day before, but hid it with a black jacket and dark jeans. He came home to another praising post-it, and a giddy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

 

One day, almost six months after Alec bought the sweater from Goodwill, things simply stop. The post-its, the bottle of pills, the clothing on the rocking chair. The jar of peanut butter was left untouched, even when Alec left it on the counter, half open.

He didn't expect to grieve for Jace, but he did. Over the course of the months, he stopped seeing him as a haunting and started seeing him as a friend. As... something more. Living. And now, he was gone. He was dead all over again, and Alec was the only one that knew. Was the only one that would miss him, that would grieve for him.

There was no one to coach him out of bed on a bad day, no one to throw the pill bottle across the room until he finally took it, no one to pick his clothes for him. Isabelle had tried, had called and knocked on his door. He didn't answer any of the times she came by, simply sending her a text to let her know that yes, he was alive. He didn't tell her he was fine, and she didn't have to ask twice.

When Alec finally decides to make a decision, almost a month after he last spoke to Jace, he tells himself that the blond man has nothing to do with his decision. He tells himself that he's been clinically depressed for years, that he's not weak, that Jace was only a droplet of water into an already overflowing bucket. He also tells himself that it isn't because he stopped taking his pills, even if he is willing to admit that not taking them was already an act of self-sabotage. He tells himself that he'll be fine, that Isabelle will be fine, that the world will move along and that he'll finally get the peace he so desperately deserves.

He tells himself that it isn't because of Jace, but when his mind is hazy from the bottle of Xanax and it finally seems to understand that he is, indeed, dying, the last name to come out of his lips is Jace's.

When they bury him, three days later, Magnus is the one to demand Alexander to be buried in the burgundy sweater he got from Goodwill six months ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, if you have any prompts you'd like to see turned into a jalec short story, please leave a comment or contact me at http://daddvrios.tumblr.com !


End file.
